Waiting for death
by rubedi
Summary: Its hallmark moment. Russian killer siting in bend of american assassins body, covering with infant diarrhea colored shawl, drinking weight loss tea, eating milk chocolate like slice of bread and waiting her partner to finally die.
1. 1 Looks like freedom to come

Kind of "five times"

* * *

She pulled out dart from his back. Whatever it was carrying is already in americans bloodstream, so no big loss but will look good in eyes of higher ups. Also pulling out dart allows to roll over archer on his back.

Natasha do not want to miss moment when he dies and she is free again.

The room she half dragged her guard slash partner is some kind of office. There is archive shelves, two workstations with framed pictures and every flat surface is covered with potted plants. All rundown and old fashioned what combined with lack of surveillance system is what attracted Widow to this place. When you are carrying someone twice your weight prone to loose consciousness every now and then, place to crash is primary concern. And this crappy office seems like gift from god – in office like this people stash useful things, unlike chrome and glass filled modern ones.

Agent Barton drools and tries to speak up, but sounds he makes are indistinguishable. Paralyzing component, she mentally catalogs away findings. At least there will be no screaming, begging to deities or spilling of darkest secrets and thank god for that, her patience should be enough to wait till he dies before running, but pre-death verbal diarrhea could make Widow put a bullet in his head. And that would set that SHIELD after her with extra zeal.

"Hush" she says putting hand on his lips in universal sign for silence. "I will look around for supplies, keep silent. Nod if you understand"

Natasha feels light nod under her fingers. Damn, he is conscious, just paralyzed, she frowns from thought alone. There is not a lot worse things then becoming prisoner inside own body, but whatever they had in that dart should run its course in next few hours, so with sunrise Natasha can be on her way.

As promised she checks both workstations. The one on left has monitor decorated with sparkly hearts and framed puppy pictures, on right – pictures of family along with terrible sculpture of Holy Mary. Sparkly and Holy, she mentally christens the workers and as expected, Sparkly has herbal tea in her desk drawers, package screaming _Detox and weight-loss! Guaranteed! _ Next to tea is king size chocolate bar. Irony, your name is office plankton, she laughs taking chocolate and tea. Holy don't have any snacks, but her drawer has woolen shawl, big enough to be used as blanket. Natasha grabs that too.

Agent Barton is still in same position as she left him, slightly drooling, breathing more labored then before. Not good, she thinks. If he asphyxiates, SHIELD will know Black Widow was not even trying to save him. Barton is heavy and poison stiffens his limbs, but she manages to put him in recovery position. It takes few kicks, but its not that he will have a chance to complain about rough treatment.

Sure that he will not drown in own drool, Natasha raids rest of office and is rewarded with small electrical kettle, hidden from boss in archive shelf. There is still some water what means she will have hot tea to pass time till death comes.

If anyone would ask Natasha why she is still here, waiting him to die, instead of running away now, she would have nothing to reply. Can one of best assassins and spies in world admit that she made a promise and some part of her are bind to keep it? "I don't kill you and you come to work with me" is an offer you do not refuse when your hand and leg is pinned to floor with arrows and shooter is standing over you, ready to put third through your eye socket. So in her mind Natasha's debt for her life expires with his last breath.

The night is cold and office heating is set low for weekend, so she hugs tea cup careful to not waste even bit of warmth. Still the draft winds are running free and if she could, she definitely would get cold after spending night like this.

Trying to cover every part with Holy's ugly brown shawl Natasha plans. She will leave Bartons corpse covered with same shawl, autopsy will reveal that dart killed him and that Natasha took desperate measures to revive him, including CPR what will break ribs and then scared and inconsolable after loosing her first partner in second operation together, run away in darkness to never be seen again. Sure, SHIELD will try to find her, but half heartily since it will be obvious that she didn't killed Barton, more so, she tried to save him. Then, if she stays away from crossing SHIELD path again, she is as good as it can be in her profession.

She checks archers pulse. A bit hectic and weaker then it was before, but far from stopping. Breathing is shallow, but still there, despite full face and limbs paralysis. His eyes are open and panic in them tells he still sees everything. As small mercy, she closes his eyes. The movement seems strange, like something you do at wake. He is also hot and don't seem even in slightest affected by cold and Natasha envy that. Barton could be the one barely keeping tremble away, he is paralyzed and about to die, so no big loss.

"Oh fuck it, its not like you will live past dawn," she says patting his cheek. She is cold, he is running fever, living take precedence over dead, so before he kicks the bucket, hot body can be useful. Natasha weasels her way next to him, sitting with her back against his stomach, Bartons leg warming her side.

Its hallmark moment, she snickers. Russian killer siting in bend of american assassins body, covering with infant diarrhea colored shawl, drinking weight loss tea, eating milk chocolate like slice of bread and waiting her partner to finally die.

Warm and content, Natasha allows herself to drift in sleep, before that securing pencil between archers teeth, so he will not bite off his tongue if death comes with spasms. When she wakes, exactly an hour before planned evac, she is met by gray open eyes. Damn, the dart was meant for her, paralyzing dart to bring their wayward daughter home. Plus its her negligence to check on what poisons SHIELD build tolerance in their agents.

"Next time," his voice is barely whisper.

Next time you will die and I will be free, she agrees in her thoughts.


	2. 2 Coup d'etat

She recognizes silence before coup d'etat, she has organized or averted plenty of those. But this time there is no ignorant government, power-greedy generals or revolutionary with burning eyes. This time under fever of revolution to come is one of most powerful organizations, controlling way too much things and people able to end existence as we know it. The SHIELD is about to have coup d'etat and most likely successful one. At least Natasha would bet on Fury and his supporting group, not on Director Abel and his people, most still stuck in cold war ideas. And what is the weirdest is that she is counted in Fury's supporters. Coulson will follow Fury, in fact, he, Fury and Hill are the core of this little power game, Barton will follow Coulson, she will follow Barton, so yeah, count Black Widow in Fury's merry band of revolutioners.

Too bad that she and Agent Barton most likely will not live to tell the tale.

"Evac successful, team inbound, eta 3 hours. Do you copy?" through the cracks and statistics Natasha and Maria Hill are listening to shield operations comm feed. They share a glance, relief in their eyes. He is alive, he is coming back to helicarrier in one piece, judging by lack of calls for medics. This marks seventh operation Agent Barton has survived despite eager and active attempts from half of the team to off him.

That is what you get for becoming apple of the quarrel or whatever the saying in English is, Natasha thinks. Director Abel believes that SHIELD should not have "whackoos and weirdos", no matter with bow, brainwashed, turning green now and then, able to talk to computers, falling in love with own gender, sprouting wings or having enhanced healing. Fury, on other hand, collects them as much as as head of SHIELD field ops department can and believes that unique snowflakes will make excellent spies for world security organization in 21st century.

Regrettably, it means that Director Abel are making active attempts to prove Fury wrong by showcasing that his pets die on field like flies and Barton is last standing. That at least explains how her former employer was able to find her in Narva and shoot that dart despite safe perimeter established by SHIELD agents.

"You'll sleep together tonight or I have to set up surveillance alarm?" Hill asks while still messing with some program. From looks, Natasha concludes, should be analytical program, Maria's forte. Her programs borders on AI and are scaringly amazing in analyzing, organizing data and predicting.

"We all will crash together I think," she replies.

"That will feed the rumor mill," Maria laughs, eyes sparkling. "Black widow, lover of her handler agent Caulson, decided to spice things up between them and invited Hawkeye to join. You do realize that there will be betting pool on who is doing who and some indecent rumors about Coulsons manly powers?"

Natasha smiles. People are predictable suckers for some hot and dirty rumor and that allows you to manipulate with them. While everyone is taking bets who is on top - she or Coulson and what Barton thinks about it, none has time to see that in reality it is security assignment once they realized that Abel is not above granting their enemies one time pass to helicarier. Nothing like four months of cold war in closed space to learn that it is better to stay awake and alert half of the night, then spend all night listening for footsteps.

"If I hear any rumor about my anatomy and need for two men, I might let slip story what exactly you are doing with that eye patch" Maria's eyes widen a bit and Natasha realizes that she has hit home. Damn, black widow must be slipping, she had no idea that Hill and Fury are really doing it, not running security decoy like she is.

"Mine will spread faster" she has composed herself and laughs earnestly. Of course, they both will use every advantage they can and they will carefully plant strategical lies and half-truths to keep people from prying.

"Romanoff," suddenly there is no humor in Maria's voice. "You do understand that they are keeping you away from field operations just because Abel is sure you will run away and he wants to kill you, right after he offs Barton and sends message to council asking demote Fury?"

"Actually he wants to trade me in to red room for research data and methodical guides of creating black widow," she replies, voice unnaturally calm

"What the fuck, Natasha! How you know that?" Maria Hill is shocked, but she is also smart and analytical so few seconds later she understands it too. "Paralyzing dart that Clint got in that Estonian town, was for you from red room, right?"

Natasha nods. She likes Maria Hill, eager and yet so composed and in this little revolution Hill is away from spotlights so if it all goes south, she most likely will stay alive and in SHIELD. And when director Abel, armed with red room research of brainwashing, comes seeking his enemy's ex-lover as lab-rat, Natasha will feel better knowing that Hill is warned.

"You should run," Hill says. "I can arrange passage for you. This could be safer then waiting"

It is not that running has not crossed Natasha's mind. By all logic she should run and let them sort their management issues themselves. But her running means that Abel gets chance to kill Coulson and that most likely means end to little revolution and then she will have revenge driven red room teamed with SHIELD after her. And there is limits even to her abilities - the analysis says staying till breaking point her survival chances are at 37 %, running - at 12 %.

"It is wiser to stay" Natasha says aloud, silently continuing "at least until Barton dies."

She has four plans how to use havoc of Abel clearing out people loyal to Fury to escape. And if Fury manages to manipulate council in retiring Abel, she could stay. It is useful to be in organization where leader owes you quite a debt. Still, in back of her head there is small hope that Abel will have strike of genius and kill Barton once and for all. Black widow longs for her freedom.


	3. 3 Fear amateurs

_For Ava, who opened my eyes to power of praise ;) thank you for your kind review._

* * *

"What the fuck happened?"

"Amateurs"

"Us or them?"

"Take a pick"

You should always fear more from eager amateurs then ruthless professionals, her trainers repeated. Now she knows why.

With professionals you never end up thrown out of car in the middle of god forsaken Canadian tundra. Professionals never panic and just push every button they can reach, releasing tailgate cap and sending two thieves sitting on it tumbling down. Professionals take guns and attack and then you take their guns, car and documents and drive to evac spot.

With amateurs you end in middle of frozen nothing with full 8 GB thumb-drive, clothing meant for seducing not surviving and partner, dressed equally uselessly.

"We are sooo screwed," Barton states the obvious.

"Unless we find a shelter, we have some 4 hours till we freeze" Natasha agrees

They look to each other. Only clothes more inappropriate for walk on freezing forest would be bikinis. Natasha's fur coat is warm, but her boots are tight, thin stilettos with twelve centimeters heels. While they were on heated car, it was just cold. Now in less then 20 minutes she don't feel her toes. Barton should be as bad - he's shoes are made for ballroom and coat are for fancy look, not warmth.

"No offense, Romanoff, but you cant plan an op where more then one person is involved," archer states the obvious while seeking for higher spot to evaluate surroundings. He sniffs air and again Natasha wonders what kind of training he has had, if he also can smell faint odor of human settlement at west.

"I think this way. Its far, but better then nothing," Barton says looking to her for confirmation. Natasha nods head agreeing that there is some human dwellings somewhere in west. Not that she hopes to find that, at least 20 kilometers away, rough forest terrain, with stilettos she can barely walk on carpet.

"I really hope whatever is on that drive, is worth our lives," her partner rants, starting to walk west.

"I think it is lead for leverage on council that Fury needs, nothing else would be serious enough for Coulson to arrange my escape from helicarrier, risking Abel finding that out," Natasha admits. It is not good, Black Widow mentally slaps herself for volunteering information. She is getting involved, getting tangled in SHIELD intrigues and games and worst of all, letting debts and ties between her and Barton to grow and widen.

And the bastard is not dying! In half a year she has spent in SHIELD, Barton has knocked on heavens door at least once in week. And for every time she gets her hopes high, Natasha later has to hurry to remove evidence of planned escape when archer crawls out of infirmary looking like total crap, but alive. It is telling that she even went to cathedral and got holy water. Not that she believes things like that, but there is something unnatural about this agent Barton. Better be sure then wait for undead to die. Needless to say, it was awkward when he woke in med bay looking right to Natasha leaning over him and holding glass of water.

"Fat lot of good the lead did to us," he still rants, plowing path in deep snow. "We got in the party, stole data, but now some bear will find our frozen bodies and eat us along with thumb-drive, packed with info I even don't want to know exists, and later will shit us out in deepest and darkest part of forest, where thumb-drive will rust and we will rot."

She laughs, because what else can you do? Freezing is good death, like falling asleep. Way better then many of her sisters got.

"Most of our bodies will be eaten by rodents and polar foxes before bears get here," she says, way more cheerful then things like that should be said.

"I will not even ask how you know that." He returns to rambling about amateurs, bad planning, fucking cold and motherfucking snow.

Its an hour later when she trips on rocks while crossing frozen creek and dry crack of her ankle sends cold chill through her spine.

"Blyad" The fact that she is cursing in Russian is telltale sign that things got real nasty.

"Romanoff, show me" He is right next to her way faster then it should be possible in knee deep snow.

"Nothing to show - broken right ankle" the pain swells on edges of conscience, cold helping to keep it away.

"Can you walk?"

She carefully listens to her body. "No"

"Even if we tie it and get you a stick?"

"There is no way I will walk more then couple hundred meters without cast and shot of anesthesia/adrenaline" Natasha looks right in archers eyes. Karma is funny bitch, Barton will be the one to see her die. In fact, his instructions for half wild asset should be quite precise. "Make it fast, please"

"You know why you Russians loose all the time? you people cut losses too soon," he looks right back to her eyes. That is one of reasons she feels uneasy with archer. Agent Barton has an ability to look right back in Black Widows eyes and not flinch. Never flinch.

"I know you don't like favors and owing, so lets make deal," he says still looking in her eyes. "I carry you as far as we get before freezing, but you will tell me something. deal, Natasha?"

She already told SHIELD everything she found out and knew about red room, except for anything that can be used to restore program after she burnt down most of it. Somehow Natasha doubts that black widow programming routine is what Barton is after, so only viable option is that her partner is curious about something he think Black widow will not tell if he simply asks. Her risk agreeing is extremely low and survival instinct is screaming to grab at every opportunity to prolong life.

"Deal"

She opens coat, so it's lapels covers them both when Natasha is securely locked in fireman's carry. The swing sends pain to ankle and feeling of hot blood in boot tells that the broken bone has fractured skin too. But somehow this is a bit warmer then before, archers shoulders are hot against her, coat keeps the heat close and her added weight make trek through snow hard enough to break a sweat.

"What you want me to tell?" it is not easy to speak while shoulder digs in your ribcage with every step, but damned if she lets them die before paying at least this debt.

"What you want to talk now, like this?" Barton don't change speed but gives her look.

"There might not be another chance and we made a deal that I want to honor."

"Your penchant for fulfilling promises are weird for spy and assassin considered among best" He is openly laughing about her. He does that a lot. Sometimes Natasha understands why, sometimes she don't and he explains now and then that all becomes ties between them, debt over claim, claim over debt.

"There is nothing wrong with some structure and order in life. So what you are curious about?"

"Why are you waiting for me to die?"

Blyad. He is way better then she thought.

"You think I am?" Someone could harvest innocence and confusion from her voice.

"I know you are. You watch me like vulture every time I am in life threatening trouble. Don't do anything to hasten my death, but are not too keen on keeping me alive either." he takes pause to catch breath. "Except for that time when you brought me water."

Her lips stay sealed. He has not asked to elaborate on that and there is no way Natasha will volunteer explanation how she in the moment of insanity actually brought holy water to test if her partner is not some mythical living dead from her fake childhood memory of granny telling gruesome fairytales. Even if it means leading Agent Barton to think that she cared about his wellbeing enough to carry glass of water instead of calling nurse.

"So Agent Romanoff, why are you waiting for me to die?"

"I.." She tries to string together explanation that would be not lies and in same time would not give him additional leverage on her. "I owe you my life. You asked me to work with you. I am keeping a promise."

"By waiting till I die?"

"And then I am free from debt." Really, it is not that hard to understand and Natasha is quite sure that Barton should get it.

"then why you are participating in this? Without you we would not get that info and Abel would off me one of those days"

"I was bored..." it comes out more as question, because really, why? Bored - of course, preferring Fury over Abel - sure, not liking idea of Clint dying from shoot in back - what the actual fuck?

"You are a piece of work, you know. Owe guy one, so become his partner to stay around him, bored, watching till he kicks the bucket, then spit on his corpse and go your merry way? this is not partnership, Nat. And becoming partners was offer, not a deal or payment for not killing you"

She tries to say something but hard dig with shoulder telegraphs her to shut up. Stupid people do not become black widow, so she keeps silent and allows archer to carry her in to sunset, following a trail only he sees. If there is any later, they can make fun of this movie trope - damsel in distress being carried away at sunset. Only ungracious way she is carried and blood dripping from her leg spoils the picture.


	4. 4 Victory party

_deal_

* * *

"To mayhem!"

"To massacre!"

"Na zdorovje!"

"to new sheriff in town!"

It could be painkillers, not Barton's lame joke that gets Hill. Either way, she starts to laugh and cant stop, tears in eyes, opening mouth to explain what is so funny, but failing miserably. Natasha knows that Hills attempts to explain cause for sudden fit of laughter are mostly for her. Barton and Coulson are also on verge of breaking out in hysterical laugh, both mimicking drawing out gun from holster on hip, shooting each other and blowing away invisible smoke from barrels of imagined guns.

Natasha understands they are referencing movies, westerns but despite her trainers best attempts, she lacks cultural context to understand what so funny about Fury, fresh baken director of SHIELD, courtesy of group in this room, as some asskicking gun carrying western sheriff. Seems pretty fitting to her. Later she will google, but for now mimicry will have to do, so Black Widow smiles and raises eyebrow, like telling that she would love to laugh her ass off because of achers greatest ever joke, but is too profesional to do that.

All four of them are holed up in med bay, level usually reserved for infectious cases, but tonight serving as place to hide and celebrate victory. Just two days ago Natasha was sure she and Barton will feed polar foxes deep in Canada. Now she is part of spontaneous party, fueled by orange instant drink Barton found somewhere when Natasha refused to allow anyone with open wounds and loads of painkillers to drink anything stronger then tea.

"Keep eye on them, before they bleed out somewhere" Fury told when half dragged, half carried Hill and Coulson in Natashas med bay cell. Maria's left side is ripped apart in knife fight at server room and Coulson's femur is broken in two places. With comrades wounded like this, Natasha, despite broken ankle, securely in cast, is really most combat-able and therefor can guard them from any attack and most of all – from sneaking away to seek anyone still needing ass kicking.

It takes a lot of self control to not laugh when few hours later Fury guides in Barton. He has bandages mirroring Fury's eyepatch and archer is not adjusting well to accompanying changes in vision.

"The helicarrier is secured, Abel is retired with honors and SHIELD provided guards for his safety while he eases in civilian life. Changes in personel will be announced tomorrow. If I see any of you motherfuckers anywhere before tomorrow briefing, Ill shoot said trespasser myself. Is that clear?" This announcement sent everyone mumbling total approval and assurance to sit still under Black widow protection. They all are still high on adrenaline, painkillers make them tipsy and Barton running in door frame when seeking water for kool aid eased the mood to almost impromptu party.

"Why you supported Fury?" It is Coulson asking to Hill. "I mean, if you would have tried, you would make great career in SHIELD under Abel too." Coulson is right, Hill is not mutant, she is without issues, squeaky clean operative you can plaster on recruitment posters.

"He pinched my ass in my first day here" Maria is deadpan serious. "When I asked to stop, I was told I overreact and do not get that it is friendly flirt between colleagues. When he started to pinch my boobs too, I broke his fingers."

"So you decided to overthrow his ass-pinching dictatorship" The archer is laughing, Coulson simply smiles, like he already knows the tale and Natasha thinks that breaking collarbone could have been more efficient.

"I decided I will support change of management when as a punishment I was sent to technical support. HR told me it is chance for me to rethink my ability to work within team and that I am welcome to apply back to strategical management dep when I learn to play with others."

"I met some people down in techsup and realized that I will never lead operations as I dreamed when applied for SHIELD until either I will loose boobs or someone else will be calling shots in SHIELD. So I never asked to be assigned back to main team and when Fury started his revolution I joined." Natasha has participated in some ops planned and led by Hill and Abel is an idiot – to pass an asset like that just to let his dirty hands roam.

"So its all calculation for me," Hill finishes her part, waving Natasha to pass her more chemical smelling drink. "What about you, poster boy of handling challenging assets?"

"Why I supported Fury before it was mainstream?"

Nod is only reply he gets because Maria is too busy checking drawers next to her bed. There are some package with dried fruits and nuts, chocolate bar and crackers. Her findings are met with enthusiasm and blotched attempts to rig "fair distribution" of food, prosecuted by observant Black widow.

"I decided I will do this during London op. I was managing op on site, Barton and Feilar was out. Everything went wrong and only reason why we all survived was because Barton ignored Abel's plan and followed Fury's suggestion." Caulson replies after food dividing fuzz has calmed. Natasha do not know about London op, so it should be before she was dragged in. It is unlikely she will get details now, but somehow Natasha doubts that it was lot different then Abel's missions rigged to off undesirable agents she has seen.

"When we were on way home, I realized that in less then four years I have lost 16 agents assigned specially to me and in long time this is first mission without casualties. It is good feeling, you know" In sudden wave of weird emotionality Natasha wants to hug Coulson and promise that she will not die on him or let Barton to do it. Instead she checks hallway for anyone out to revenge their ex-boss.

"Why Barton decided to follow advice from guy he saw first time in his life I have no clue" despite lacking questioning intonation, this clearly is question.

The pause is heavy while they all watch archer fiddling uneasy.

"I have no idea... I watched him that day inspecting training facility, the new director of field ops and started to root for him to survive longer then his predecessors." Obviously he thinks that is good enough explanation, so Barton turns to prying crackers out of too tight packaging.

"Kinda like with her," he waves sleeve of crackers towards Natasha. "Just got feeling I should and no data to indicate otherwise"

By logic of this conversation it is her turn to tell about motivation, she got that right when Coulson started to talk, but despite that Natasha has no clue what to say. "Because it just happened" is lame excuse.

"Anyone has an idea who will run now field ops?" its Barton breaking expected pattern. After their talk in last op when she technically told she is simply waiting for him to die, their relationships are strained and extremely polite.

"I didn't wanted you to die"

Later she will rationalize that those words were needed to get him trust Natasha not to stab his back again and ensure certain freedom of movement away from hawk's watching eyes. But she knows it is true even in greater extent then four bodies of unlucky killers stashed away in medicine cabinet indicate.

She wants to make friends here, not mimic having them.


End file.
